


Wherever is Your Heart, I Call Home

by greenmountaingirl



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Complete, Eventual Fluff, F/F, F/M, Minor Violence, Smut, Trigger Warning - Sexism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-01-26 06:08:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12550884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenmountaingirl/pseuds/greenmountaingirl
Summary: Wolfgang Bogdanow is many things but believer in fate is not one of them... until Kala Dandekar walks into his life. Do you get more than one chance at forever?





	1. London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wolfgang and Kala meet in London. Is it fate?
> 
> I can’t get my head around it  
> I keep feeling smaller and smaller  
> I need my girl  
> “I Need My Girl” - The National

 

No matter what Kala wore in the morning, the English weather somehow changes its mind and she ends up ill-equipped. Today the weather report had said it would be mild for mid-November but clear. Kala swears under her breath in Hindi as she sneaks from awning to awning in a mizzling sleet that is chilling to the bone.

Seven blocks and fifteen minutes later, Kala opens the door to a stiflingly hot apartment that smells of pot brownies. Leaning back against the door, Kala sighs with a bone-deep relief.

“Kalaaaaa!” Kala is suddenly engulfed in a wave of multicolored dreads as she is tackled into a hug by one half of her roommates.  “I am so glad you are home!” Amanita starts to jump up and down in their tiny entryway and continues to ramble as she trails crumbs from the brownie she is eating.  

Anamita and her girlfriend, Nomi, had moved from San Francisco to London while Nomi wrote her dissertation on hacktevism in the modern age. And though Kala misses her family, having a new mini-family is a constant source of amusement. Kala drops her bag and starts to remove her sodden clothing as she watches Neets start a little wiggly dance in the doorway. Kala feels a smile tug at her lips; Neets is always pretty irresistable.

Neets swings her dreads around and flounces in her tye-dye peasant skirt as she rambles through what she is up to.“- I baked and got baked and then I realized it’s our roommate-versary and we should celebrate!” Neets finishes.

“Our what?” Kala kicks off her boots and wrenches her wet socks off as she ambles towards the bathroom.

“Our roommate-versary!”Amanita follows Kala to the bathroom and starts to undo her bun as she turns the shower to the right temperature. Kala sighs as the weight of her hair is released from its clips. “We moved in together six months ago. We should go out and celebrate!”

“Neets! Take it easy on her!” Nomi’s voice calls.

Kala strips off the rest of her clothing quickly and hops into the shower delighting as feelings returns to her numb extremities. Kala listens comforted by the ramble of Amanita’s stories, reminding her of Daya. Kala lathers up her hair, glad to be smelling of marigolds and not formaldehyde.  

“Amanita?” Nomi calls again.

“I’m here, honey!” Neets says between stuffing another brownie into her mouth and clambering on to the back of the toilet.

“I am not sure I’m up to going out,” Kala peeks out the shower curtain. “I mean, it has been a long week and I have a ton of reading for my public health seminar.” Kala tries not to whine, “ _And_ I’m at the accident and emergency tomorrow because _you_ signed me up to help.” Kala pulls herself back under the stream.

“But lady, you need some man time and you have two _fabulously_ sexy wing women here to help!” Neets spins around, “Annnnnd, we haven’t gone out since Halloween!”

Kala starts to rinse out her hair as she listens to the list of reasons why the three of them need to go out. Reveling in the heat of the shower, Kala starts to perk up. Cracks in her argument of staying in showing. It is hard to say no to Neets at the best of times, and she she is in rare form today.

“Okay, Neets, I will go.” Kala tries to say, switching off the water. She thrusts her arm out in search of a towel. As she dries off, she tries and fails to cut in on Neets’ endless ramble  on why they should all go out.

“Neets!” she tries again.

“Yeah?!” Amanita stops talking; hands in the air and left eyebrow nearly in her hairline.

“I said, I will go out with you guys.” Kala steps out of the shower wrapped in a towel.

Amanita squeals and throws her arms around Kala. Dancing happily in the tiny steaming bathroom.

Giggles bubble up in Kala’s chest, “You have to do my hair and makeup. It always looks better when you do it!”

Amanita immediately rushes out into the hallway to get her girlfriend, Nomi, away from her laptop. They yank Kala into the closets and start dressing her up. An hour later, they tumble into a cab, buzzing with excitement, and give directions to their first stop.

  


Wolfgang checks over his shoulder twice before unlocking the door, releasing the breath he’d been holding and relocking the door behind him. He sets his Glock and Ruger in the front closet, and turns to see an anxious Felix watching.

“Sooo…. Did he buy them?”

Wolfgang nods, pulling out a wad of five thousand Euros. “He bought every fucking one!”

Wolfgang and Felix had come to London to sell the diamonds before Steiner found out about the side job that they had pulled. Now that that’s done, both of them can breathe easier. Felix whoops with glee as Wolfgang feels himself smirking. Felix turns abruptly towards the kitchen to get the vodka.

“We have to celebrate,” says Felix, pouring them two shots each before putting the bottle down, “we are fucking _legends_.”

Wolfgang can’t help but smile at his brother. Felix is the only good thing in Wolfgang’s life and he is forever grateful for him taking pity on the hungry, grubby East German boy all those years ago. So, six months ago when Wolfgang decided to go behind Steiner’s back and crack the S&D, he knew Felix would be right there with him.

Picking up his shot, Wolfgang asks Felix’s favorite toast; “What is best in life?”

“Crush your enemies!” Felix cheers.

They down one shot and the other as a chaser. Wolfgang takes both shots in quick succession, barely breathing in between. It had been a long day.

“Wolfie,” Felix sighs, “let’s get out of here. This apartment is fucking depressing and I have been stuck here all day.”

Wolfgang glances at Felix and pours them two more shots each. After negotiating all day for the diamonds, Wolfgang is exhausted. But Felix is right, they should celebrate.

“ _Prost._ ” Wolfgang lifts both shots. Felix follows suit.

Without saying anything more, Wolfgang heads for the door, Felix slaps him on the back and grabs a garish yellow jacket. Wolfgang stops grab his Glock, reaching around to put it in the waist of his jeans.

 

Three bars after leaving the flat, Kala is suitably buzzed. She feels like she’s glowing as she walks in to their fourth club. The DJs are between sets and the bouncer barely glances at their IDs, gazing, instead, at Kala’s bare legs. Nomanita - it is easier to think of them as a collective sometimes - claim a corner booth and immediately get lost in each other’s mouths.

Kala blushes and looks away. After living with them, she knows how affectionate and in love they are, and usually she doesn’t mind. Tonight though, it makes her a bit lonely. And if she’s honest, a bit jealous. Without saying anything Kala goes to the bar.

After fifteen minutes of negotiating through the sea of people, Kala orders a glass of white wine and a large glass of water. The bartender nods and starts pulling pints for the orders before her. Kala studies the other patrons as though they are creatures in a lab. Not engaging or feeling anything for them. Just watching.

“God, you are one exotic Goddess, darling.” A posh voice says behind her.

Kala turns to find a well-dressed man who is barely taller than she is. His eyes are murky, almost an indiscernible hazel in the low light of the bar. Kala says nothing and turns back to take and pay for her drinks.

“What is your poison, pet?” His hand is clammy where it lands on her arm.

Kala tries to turn to go as his fingers dig into her upper arm. “Excuse me, but my friends will be looking for me.”

Scoffing, he starts to tow her farther from Nomanita and deeper into the crowd. “Don’t think that’s necessary, love. I mean, those dykes looked plenty busy without you.” His friends laugh like a posse of pompous hyenas behind him as his eyes harden.

Kala feels frustration roiling through her. Closing her eyes, all Kala can think is _I wish I had an ounce of Amanita’s spitfire right now._

His smile turns feral. “No harm in one drink is there?” There is an underlying menace in his words.

Tramping down the panic fluttering in her chest, Kala tugs on her arm. “No thank you.”

“That accent is hot… ‘no tank you’,” he mocks. Kala wants to slap his hand away from her arm, to scream at him. Their progress through the crowd is disorienting, Kala loses track of where she started. “I have a private table over here. Join us.”

“Let go of me. _Please,_ ” Kala looks around, desperate. Her glass tips over in her hand, spilling the wine.

Suddenly she finds herself unhanded.

“She said ‘let go,’” the voice is lower, threatening.   _And most definitely not English._

 

Wolfgang hates bullies. It’s how he ended up in detention with Felix. As he got older, Wolfgang fashioned himself a Conan-like figure, lending a fist to the little guy -- or girl.

So, when Wolfgang sees a beautiful woman trying to escape from a total dick from his high table at the bar, he moves without thinking.

Wolfgang digs his nails into the pretty boy, grappling the arm holding on to the girl. Pretty Boy is drunk and with friends and afraid to lose face.

Wolfgang can tell he wants to grab onto the girl again, “Who the hell are you?”

“Let her go,” he growls. “Find someone else to play with.” Wolfgang stares him down, feeling more than ready to hammer his smug face.

Felix comes up behind him. He doesn’t look like much but can be scrappy when he needs to be.

“Anyone speak real English in here?” His accent grates Wolfgang’s eardrums.

The woman starts to inch away from him, slipping on the beer soaked floor. Wolfgang catches her elbow without thinking, steadying her, not immediately letting go. Her face is hidden by a tumble of black curls. Wolfgang can feel a tremble course through her. On instinct, he pulls her closer.

Pretty boy can’t help himself, “Fuck you, Bosche. I saw her first.”

Wolfgang stares him down without speaking. Knowing he is more intimidating when he is silent. Even if his friends lend him a hand, Wolfgang knows they are no match for a kid who grew up fighting for every little scrap.

“Stupid bitch,” said Pretty Fuck Boy, gesturing for his posse to follow. “Let’s find some real fun.” Wolfgang feels a deep revulsion for this guy, he reminds him of his father. Wolfgang starts after Pretty Fuck Boy as he slithers into the crowd. When a warm weight hits his chest. She is pressing her hand to his sternum.

He looks down at her, “Are you okay?”

She looks up, her eyes luminous and slightly unfocused. She must have been pretty drunk before they got ahold of her. She nods, her fingers clutch at his shirt.

“He’s an ass. Want me to go have a word with him?”

Tilting her head, she almost smiles as she looks at his empty left hand, which he’d clenched into a fist. “Have a word?”

Wolfgang smirks. “What’s your name?”

“Kala.” Her voice is silvery and light.

“Wolfgang.”

“Wolfgang?” She scrunches her brows, disbelieving. He wonders if she knows that she has no poker face.

“That’s what Felix said when we met.”

Kala’s cheeks dimple as she laughs. Wolfgang can’t stop looking at her. Her smile is infectious, and despite having been recently freed from an absolute _Arschloch,_ she seems no worse for wear.

“Can I get you another drink, since that _Ficker_ spilled yours?”

She nods but looks away. He slides his hand down from where it is still holding her elbow, catching her hand. She doesn’t pull away when he wraps calloused fingers around her palm, he relishes in the warmth of soft hand as they make their way back to the bar.  

They wind through the crowd. She seems to be looking for someone. Wolfgang spots Felix, who had disappeared into the crowd when he realized he wasn’t going to get to hit anyone. (He seems to be trying to convince a pretty blonde that he didn’t speak English.)

At the bar, he looks down at her, “White wine, right?” Kala smiles shyly and nods causing Wolfgang to feel an unusual flutter in his chest.

“How did you know?”

With a shrug, he gestures for the bartender and orders a shot and beer for himself and a glass of wine for her. Drinks paid for, he finds a spot and glowers until someone hastily gives up a chair for her to sit. He stands beside her. The stool’s tall enough that they are eye to eye.

Kala sips her wine, the shock from her earlier encounter with Pretty Fuck Boy completely wearing off. After she swallows, she drags her tongue across her lips, savoring the taste. It makes Wolfgang think of other things her lips and tongue would be very good at.

“I didn’t thank you for your help-” she gestures and trails off. He watches her, drinking in her beauty.

The crowd is getting increasingly noisy as the next DJ sets up, and bodies press in on all sides. Wolfgang inches closer until he’s almost -- but not quite -- pressed against her. The energy crackling between their bodies.

“How did you know?” She leans in, voice soft, warm breath tickling his skin. “To help me?”

Wolfgang looks at her, and the overbearing crowd around the bar feels far away. Flirting would be easy. He considers it for a minute, considers dropping a punchline about damsels in distress.

But she isn’t a girl one simply flirts with.

“I was watching you. I saw you when you came in,” he says instead.

Kala’s eyes widen. Whatever she expected him to say, it hadn’t been that.

The words come out as naturally as breathing. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

Blushing, she takes another sip of her wine. Wolfgang watches the twitch of the skin on her neck and tries not to fantasize about licking the place where her pulse flutters under her skin. As though she can hear his thoughts, Kala meets his eyes and leans forward. Wolfgang reaches to cradle her face.

“Kala!”

She turns away to find the source of her name-caller.  

“Kala!” shouts two American women, pushing their way through the crowd.

“Nomi! Neets!”

She sounds relieved. He tries to ignore a pang in his chest as he drops his hand from her cheek.  

Kala is immediately engulfed in the middle of a group hug as all three of them talk at once. They stroke Kala’s face and hair and throw a coat around her shoulders. Wolfgang watches from as they turn to leave, not knowing how to get her to stay.

Before she exits the door, Kala glances back with unreadable eyes.

 

Wolfgang and Felix did not stop drinking until 4 am, but they are ready to start drinking again by noon when the football match starts. Germany versus England. World Cup Quarter Finals. And somehow Felix had decided it is best to watch it in a pub near Wembley. (“So we can break their hearts right in the thick of it!” He crows, shit-eating grin stretched across his face.)  

Wolfgang had barely slept, caught between the spins and dreams of Kala. Usually, he liked a woman, she’d like him back, they’d sleep together and he’d move on. He isn’t a boyfriend. Dreaming of girls from bars is not something that Wolfgang finds himself doing.

That doesn’t seem to matter to his brain, though, as he sits nursing a third beer. He watches Germany soundly trounce England and fantasizes about what Kala looks like in the morning as she wakes up or right after a shower, her curls wet and unruly. Felix is having a grand time with the other patrons at the bar, cursing (in English and German) as he pours an eleventh shot of Stoli.

Wolfgang smirks as Felix backs up against a blubbery England fan in a matching track suit. “ _Entschuldigung sah dich nicht,” he says._ Felix is speaking more German, meaning he is pretty drunk. Around the eightieth minute, Felix crawls up the table and starts to belt out _Das Deutschlandlied._

Felix is oblivious to the others’ glares as he continues his off-key rendition. Wolfgang braces himself. He doesn’t mind fighting -- he has been almost itching for one since last night -- but juggling a drunk Felix and defending them both is a lot harder than just taking out a couple guys. Wolfgang hauls Felix off the table and sends him stumbling towards the door, turning to watch in case any of the wannabe footballers come at them from behind.

Felix crashes into a heavily tattooed, gone-to-seed boxer-type man. “The fuck,” Felix says. “We’re trying to leave, assholes.”

“Leave already? The game's not over.” The man’s voice is like a lawnmower crunching through gravel. “My friends and I are curious,” he gestures, beer in hand, “You fight as well as you trash talk?”

Felix wobbles, raising his fists. The ex-boxer scoffs and drains his pint.

Wolfgang tenses as he waits for the swing. It comes from the right. Wolfgang ducks and shoves Felix to the ground, before launching himself back up, headbutting the attacker’s chest. He lands three blows in quick succession, before hauling Felix up and toward the door.

“Fucking Nazis!”

A tiny wiry guy smashes a bottle on a nearby table and charges at Wolfgang. He lets go of Felix and ducks, avoiding the smashed bottle the guy brandishes as he  attempts to find a weapon of his own.

“Fuuuuck!” Felix wails behind him.

Forgetting about his own fight, Wolfgang grabs Felix and half-pushes, half-throws him, turning just in time to receive a massive blow to the stomach. Wolfgang doubles over, gasping from a pain in his ribs. Wolfgang stands and headbutts the small guy once breaking his nose and knocking him out clean. Before the others can catch on, Wolfgang rushes out the door with Felix.

Wolfgang hails a taxi and tells the driver to get to the closest emergency room. Twenty minutes later, Wolfgang drops a mostly unconscious Felix into the only available uncomfortable plastic chair and tries in vain to get someone’s attention. Clutching his side, he glances around. They’re not the only patients fresh from a brawl.

A woman with black curly hair in a white coat passes by, and he taps her behind her shoulder to grab her attention, “Hey, can you -”

It couldn’t be.

“Can I help you, sir?” She turns back.

 _Kala._ He feels his legs start to give way.

Her eyes widen. “What? How? Why?”

Then she’s holding him, crouching so his head rests on her chest. He hears her call his name, barely -- she sounds far away.

 _If I’m dying,_ he thinks, _at least she said my name._

  


Kala has been on the ward for less than an hour when Wolfgang collapses in her arms, “Doctor! I need a Doctor!” Kala shouts, lying Wolfgang flat on the filthy hospital floor. His shirt is sodden with blood. “I need a pressure bandage!”

She strips her white coat and presses it to his side, trying to stop the bleeding as she prays. “ _Krpaya use theek hone den. bhagavaan ganesh, use theek hone den.” Please let him be okay. Lord Ganesha, let him be okay._

Over and over she utters the prayer until she is pushed aside by a crowd of orderlies, doctors and nurses calling out for an operating room and a surgeon. She watches as they wheel him away.

It is hours later when the trauma surgeon finds her leaning against a wall, trying to ease the ache that is inching up her legs.

“Ms Dandekar, right?” his voice is kind “That man who fell on you earlier?”

Kala nods, holding her breath -

“He is in recovery. Doing well from all accounts. He is very lucky.”

“Oh thank Ganesha!” It comes out as a sigh, as though she hadn’t breathed deeply for hours.

“You are welcome to look in on him.”

Kala nods. “Thank you. _Thank you_.”

“Your friend is in room 888.” He looks like he wants to say more, but doesn’t.

Kala nods and turns away, rushing, almost running, to the elevator bank.

She finds his room in the maze of the recovery ward. He lies preternaturally still. She jumps at the sound of a heavy snore from a skinny man with dark hair and a taped up nose, slumping, asleep, against the corner. Carefully she steps over his legs,  approaching the bed.

The heart monitor beeps steadily in the corner of the bed. His hands are hooked to various tubes for pain management and hydration. His breathing steady even without the oxygen mask that is hanging on the side of the bed. Glancing at his charts, Kala can see he had been stabbed, but luckily avoided any major internal damage.

“ _Ich wusste, dass du es warst.”_ His voice is scratchy, roughened by the oxygen from his tubes. Kala looks up. His eyes are so blue. Painfully blue.

Kala turns to pour water, “I don’t speak German. You will have to speak English if you want to talk to me.” She hands him the cup and he wraps his hands around it. He downs it in a gulp and holds it out again.

As she refills his glass, he watches her in silence, his gaze intense “You left. Without saying goodbye.” His voice is low, hardly more than a whisper, his accent thicker than it had been last night.  

Clearing her throat, she gives him the cup and steps away again. Nervous to be close to him.“My friends. They, um, they were ready to go home.”

He nods as he finishes his water. Kala finds herself looking around, avoiding his eyes. “What happened to you?” she asks, looking at the body asleep on the floor. “And who is that?”

Wolfgang sits up and almost smiles. “That’s Felix,” he explains. “He always snores like a train.” Wincing, he lies back again, “He got himself into a fight. I had to get him _out_ of the fight.”

Kala felt her lips twitch at his matter of fact tone, “Do you play hero a lot?”

Wolfgang’s dimple deepens and his eyes flash with suppressed amusement. “Only if the reward is worth it.”

Kala’s heart flipped over in her chest. “I should go. Let you rest.”

Wolfgang starts to pull himself up gasping a little with the effort. Kala steps closer, pushing on his arms to coax him back down. Wolfgang catches her hand and laces his fingers with hers. The rasp of his calluses against her palm is irrationally intimate.

“Can I see you again?” Gripping her hand but not looking at her, “At least give you my number?”

Kala feels his pull like the gravity in the room has shifted. Nodding before she can think better of it, she searches her pocket for her phone. But it isn’t there. It’s in her locker in the volunteer room. Instead, she hands him a pen and her notebook.

Despite the needle in the back of his hand, Wolfgang’s handwriting is precise, evenly spaced and perfectly formed. “We are set to go back to Berlin tomorrow if I get discharged, but I can get to London anytime.” He rips out the number, perfectly along the perforated line, and hands it to her.

Kala’s heart constricts as she takes the paper, their fingers still intertwined  “Berlin?”

He nods.“I have no problem flying in to London to see you.” Kala feels the heat of her blush, and breathes just a little quicker .

“Well…” With reluctance, disentangles her fingers. “I will talk to you soon.”

She  feels him watching as she  walks away, but resists looking back.

Kala feels like she is floating as she changes back into her jeans and sweater, pulls  on her raincoat and waves  goodbye to the other volunteers. Wolfgang’s number pushed deep in her pocket, she skips out the door and into the downpour.

When Kala reaches her apartment, she  is delirious, a heady mix of desire and exhaustion. She can’t stop thinking about the blue-eyed stranger that fate has given her. Before removing her now soaked jacket, Kala fishes for the number in the pocket.

Only to find a hole in the bottom of the fabric, the number gone.

On the verge of a breakdown, Kala starts to cry. She collapses into bed and  curls up, fully clothed. She falls asleep before she can remind herself to call the hospital and find him.

When she wakes ten hours later, she learns Wolfgang has already paid cash for the whole bill and checked himself out early.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First attempt at an Alternate Universe - somewhat inspired by "Sliding Doors" and meeting people multiple times before realizing how important they may be.
> 
> Thanks so much to Nightjar_Patronus for being my awesome Tumblr Mama and my invaluable beta.


	2. Paris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala meets Wolfgang again. This time in Paris. 
> 
> When, When  
> When am I gonna see you again  
> “When When” - Civil Twilight

Paris is not a city Wolfgang finds particularly enjoyable, but drinking beer outside an outdoor cafe under the warm, fading sun? Even he can’t find too much fault with that.

“ _ Non essere un cazzo idiota. Sapevi come sarebbe successo. Il lavoro è fatto. Fuchs vuole il suo denaro _ .” 

Well,  _ this _  sort of ruins the moment. Some might consider  listening to one’s  on-and-off girlfriend ream someone out in Italian kinda  hot. Sexy, even. But when Wolfgang  knows he’s the one who will have to follow up on that threat, it is less than erotic. 

Lila slams the phone down on the wrought iron table and picks up her wine glass, downing it in a single gulp and gesturing for another. 

“We should get paid by midnight. Little Roman assholes don’t know who they’re fucking with.” 

Lila stretches out her legs. They are long, shapely. By any account, Lila is an incredibly attractive woman. Wolfgang nods and slides his hand up the curve of her thigh.

Fuchs had sent them to collect a protection bribe for a shipment of guns from some of his less savory friends. Wolfgang and Lila were meant to meet with the Romans and collect. One way or another. 

Wolfgang never really knew what Lila and he were to each other, and whether  their relationship is strictly professional. He couldn’t bring himself to care either way. Regular rampant sex with little attachment is just fine. 

“I need a cigarette.” Lila stands abruptly and leaves the table. 

Wolfgang doesn’t bother watching her walk away, knowing she only does this for attention. Instead he watches other people pass, sipping his beer, but stops abruptly when he sees  _ her _ approaching the table next to his. 

It has to be her. It’s been two years, but he’d know her anywhere. 

_ Kala _ .  

Wolfgang tries to talk, but his tongue feels dry, like it’s stuck to the roof of his mouth. She sits down. He cannot bring himself to stop staring. Her hair is shorter, curls ending just above her shoulder. Reddish tints showing in the waning sunlight. But little else is different. She catches him staring and looks away, fiddling with her sunglasses as she  orders a glass of champagne. 

Kala sips at her drink and Wolfgang watching her throat move. Why is he like this? He shouldn’t be. Nothing even happened in London. Feeling the weight of his gaze, Kala turns and stares back, their eyes locking. 

Before he can stop himself, he blurts out, “Hello again, Kala.”

“I’m sorry, have we met?” 

Wolfgang knows after two months on the coast of Italy, his hair got lighter and he’s more clean shaven and tanner than he’d normally be. But he is startled that she doesn’t know him immediately. That she doesn’t remember him the way he remembers her.

  
  


Kala has just been awarded a major promotion at Rasal Pharmaceuticals. Rajan Rasal, the owner and CEO, wants to move his business towards the European market. He hopes to open branches in Rome and Berlin within the next year.  And Kala has been promoted as a supervisor for product promotion and safety. Mr Rasal has asked that she travels around Europe and report to the company's base in Mumbai. It is everything she had been working so hard for. 

She can’t stop beaming on her walk from the interview, all giddy as she bathes in the warmth of the sun before dusk. Kala cannot wait to tell her family, but decides she deserves to celebrate first. The moment she walks in the outdoor cafe, she feels someone watching a handsome, light-haired man with oddly familiar eyes. 

He watches her settle in and order a glass of champagne, not diverting his gaze. “Hello again, Kala,” he says.

She starts asking who he is just as her mind registers the blue-eyed stranger from her past.  _ Wolfgang _ , she recalls, as soon as he utters her name. 

“Hello again.” Wolfgang smiles, making her heart flip.

She cannot help but grin in response. “Wolfgang,” she says, quiet as a whisper. 

There is a moment  of silence. What can  you say to someone you met two years ago, and never spoke to again? 

She settles for small talk. “What brings you to Paris?” 

“A job.” Wolfgang’s voice sends tingles up her spine. “You?” 

Their eyes lock  as he speaks, and the world melts under the intensity of his gaze. Other voices around them seem to drift further away.

Clearing her throat, she looks down at her glass of champagne. “Work. Job interview.” She  sips her drink. “Just got a promotion.” 

Wolfgang’s eyebrows rise. “Congratulations.” He  takes a long pull on his beer and gestures for another. “You never called me.” He states bluntly, almost like a challenge. 

Kala feels herself  blush. “I wanted to. I did.” 

Wolfgang frowns. “Why didn’t you?”A woman walks over and puts her arm around Wolfgang’s shoulder, raising an eyebrow at Kala. 

“Who’s this?” the woman asks in German. 

“An old friend,” Wolfgang responds without breaking eye contact with Kala. 

Kala can feel her toes curling up under the woman’s scrutiny. She responds, “We knew each other a long time ago, in London.” 

The woman looks taken aback when she hears Kala speak. Wolfgang smirks, his dimples showing. 

“You learned German?” Wolfgang asks with a wink. 

Kala nods, but doesn’t say anything. 

“Wolfie, we should go. We don’t want to be late for dinner with Steiner.” Lila’s  voice is harsh. Cold. She stands, laying down a few Euros and beckons  for him to follow. 

“I will meet you outside. Gotta piss.” Wolfgang heads for the men’s room, leaving Kala feeling oddly deflated.

Who is that gorgeous woman with the four inch stilettos? His girlfriend?  _ Wife? _ Not that it is her business to care. Sighing, Kala settles her own bill and stands to leave. 

“Will you call this time?” Wolfgang speaks up from behind, standing close. Too close. Kala can feel the warmth of his breath tickling her skin. 

She smirks. “Won’t your girlfriend be jealous?” 

“Who gives a fuck?” 

She can’t help but laugh as she hands 0ver her phone -- no paper to lose this time. He hands it back and leaves without saying anything else. 

Kala stands there, phone in hand, and wonders  if she will ever find the courage to call. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 will be on its way within a week.... I think. I hope you guys are enjoying it. Thanks so a wicked timely beta from Nightjar_Patronus. Next time we will see Felix, get an update on Nomanita and possibly see the arrival of Mr Rajan Rasal.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Berlin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Kala and Wolfgang finally see each other on purpose. 
> 
> I've been trying to do it right  
> I've been living a lonely life  
> I've been sleeping here instead  
> I've been sleeping in my bed,  
> Sleeping in my bed  
> “Hey Ho” - The Lumineers

The sound of wheels squealing as they hit the tarmac at Tegel airport jerks Kala awake. Blinking, she looks around. The sky is gray in the foggy February morning.

“Welcome to Berlin.” Rajan looks over at her and smiles. He had gallantly given her the window seat for the eleven hour flight.

Kala feels her cheeks flush and starts to gather her things. She her phone on and is immediately bombarded by four messages from her worried parents. Another  from Nomanita back in San Francisco, with a picture of their adorable new daughter, Willow. And one last text, a dinner confirmation for tonight. Kala can’t help but smile.

Wolfgang and Kala have had an intermittent text exchange since they last saw  each other in October in Paris. And when Kala found out she would be in Berlin, she’d asked if he could have dinner with her.

Rajan tries to catch a glimpse of whatever has made Kala smile. “Any emergencies?”

Kala shakes her head. “No. Not at all.”

Kala is not sure how to explain her Wolfgang situation to Rajan. If she is honest, she is not sure how to Wolfgang to herself.

After battling through baggage claim, customs and traffic, Kala and Rajan  check in and head to their conference with the board members from the Rasal Pharmaceuticals office in Berlin.

Once there, Kala immerses herself in her presentation of the new restrictions on AIDS/ HIV treatments and shipment dates for the medicine. With the company’s rapid expansion, Kala has caught lots of people cutting corners to increase profit margins, neglecting the quality of the products and the health of the patients at stake. To combat this problem, Kala has made it her goal to enforce stricter company-wide regulations.  

“Wonderful as usual, Kala.” Rajan beams.

Their colleagues smirk at them from across the  table, not bothering with subtlety. Kala suppresses a flash of irritation at Rajan for stirring up rumors about their relationship. “We should go to dinner to celebrate!”

Kala sighs. _Yeah, that would definitely help with the rumors._

As the meeting is adjourned, people file out of the room. They stand by the door to say goodbye to everyone,  and Rajan turns to her “So, dinner?”

“Actually, I already have plans,” she replies, carefully organizing her folders and tablet before placing them in her briefcase. “I have a friend here in Berlin. We’re meeting for a late dinner. You’re welcome to come.”

Kala likes Rajan. She does. But she does not see herself _loving_ Rajan. And she’d rather not lead him on, even though  they get along quite well and he’s not shy when it comes to expressing affections for her.

Rajan, courteous as always, quips back: “You’ll have to tell me how a good Indian girl befriended a German.”

Kala laughs and heads for the door.

 

“Felix, we are going to be late!” Wolfgang yells from the kitchen.

Felix appears out of nowhere, dressed in a red shirt with what looks like a child’s finger painting pattern on it with silver metallic Oxfords.

Wolfgang chokes on his sip of beer. “The fuck are you wearing?”

“It’s called fashion, Wolfie.” Felix opens his own beer. “Not everyone dresses like they’re always at a fucking funeral.”

Wolfgang chuckles. They clink their bottles and down their drinks.

“Who are we having dinner with again?” Felix jogs alongside as they walk to their shared black BMW 330i. Wolfgang is, needless to say, inexplicably nervous about seeing Kala again. He had invited Felix along. If this goes well, he’ll let Felix go off on his own. He’ll understand.

As much as Wolfgang wants to see Kala alone, he’s not confident this evening would go his way. Their erratic text conversations were littered with comments that bordered on flirtatious. But seeing her in person? That would be completely different.

“A friend. A girl. Met her in London a while back.”

Felix gawks, confused. “Wolfie, I hate to tell you, but we don’t have friends. Especially female friends.”

Wolfgang smirks and starts the car. “She’s different”

“Different, huh?” Felix scoffs and lights a cigarette.“The fuck do you mean by that?”

Wolfgang shrugs as he shifts gears, “I don’t know yet.”

  


Kala puts on a midnight blue silk dress for dinner. It’s backless and shimmery. Sexy. Revealing. Far from her usual style, but Daya had a way of talking her into the wildest things. Even if Daya had thought Kala was packing a fancy dress for Rajan’s sake.

Her family is supportive of all her decisions. They supported her choice to live in London. Support her choice to go into higher education and pursue a challenging international career. But they are utterly baffled by the fact that when Rajan Rasal, Mumbai’s most eligible bachelor, is none-so-subtly interested in her, yet she wants  nothing to do with him.

Kala examines her dress in the mirror with a frown. Since she had met Wolfgang in Paris, they had spoken on the phone now and then and exchanged a few texts. Just light, silly things. Seeing him in person will be different, though. There’s no screen behind which she can rehearse what she’d say.

Kala looks at her reflection before pulling loose another curl from her French twist. It’s ridiculous, how nervous she is. It’s not the first time they’re seeing each other. Shaking her head, Kala checks the time, grabs her purse, and heads for the elevator.

Rajan said they could just eat in the hotel’s restaurant. Kala had wished to see more of Berlin, but it seemed silly to argue about this. Wolfgang said he’s also bringing a friend. This should be a pretty casual dinner..

She spots Wolfgang when she walks out of the elevator and stops, taking a moment to admire him from the back. He’s changed little since London. He’s wearing what might be the same leather jacket he wore last time. Except here in Berlin, he looks less tense; more at home.

Kala walks up behind him. “Hello again.”

 

Wolfgang looks around at the black marble and chrome lobby of Kala’s hotel. Ignoring the scrutiny of the snobby bell boys, Wolfgang wanders around looking for Kala. He feels a strange flutter in his stomach.

He hears her before he sees her, “Hello again.” He turns.

Kala is stunning. He has no other way to describe it. Her hair is half contained with curls trailing along her neck. His fingers itch to brush a loose strand away from her face. Her dress is no more revealing than anything he would see at a bar in Berlin, but on her, it is intensely alluring. Wolfgang cannot help trail his eyes down her exposed legs, before jerking his head up to meet her eyes. She smirks, noticing his obvious distraction.

“Hi.” Wolfgang clears his throat. “You look nice.”

“Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself.” An Indian man walks out from the bank of elevators and spots her. He is dressed in an Armani suit,  easily worth more than a month’s rent for Wolfgang.

“Kala!” he calls out as he walks over. “You look splendid!”

The man  has not taken his eyes of Kala, and Wolfgang feels a surprising flicker of jealousy.

“Rajan.” Kala smiles and nods at the man. “This is Wolfgang.”

Wolfgang reaches out to shake Rajan’s soft, manicured hand, suppressing the urge to tighten his grip. Wolfgang tries not to deliberately break his hand.

“Kala tells me you met at school in London?”

Wolfgang looks at Kala, eyebrows raised, but nods nonetheless. It is the easiest explanation.

“Hey Wolfie, where the fuck are we gonna eat?” Felix walks up behind him.

“Kala, this is Felix. Felix -” he gestures to between them - “Kala.”

He does not see the need to introduce Rajan.  

Kala’s eyes light up in recognition. “It is nice to meet you, Felix.”

“Where the hell has he been hiding you!” Felix exclaims, kissing her hand.

Felix is being his usual annoying self. Wolfgang wants to slap him. Kala laughs as she takes back her hand.

Rajan looks distinctly uncomfortable with Felix’s display, but introduces himself anyways. Then, guiding Kala by the waist, “Shall we? I believe we are running late for dinner.”

Rajan does not notice Kala’s look of surprise at his gesture. A surly Wolfgang follows them in and questions everything about the decisions that brought him to this moment, ignoring Felix’s puzzled glance.

  


Dinner starts normally enough. Kala is hyper aware of the obvious difference between Rajan and Wolfgang. A strange collision of worlds. Polar opposites.

Rajan seems to take delight in making said differences known, but Wolfgang leans back and takes a long drink of beer, looking remarkably at ease despite Rajan’s continuous chatter about the company.

After he finds out Rajan does not speak German, Felix takes delight in making bilingual sarcastic comments regarding said chatter. He is also drinking like a fish, ordering endless rounds of vodka on Rajan’s tab.

Kala finishes a second glass of wine as Rajan’s phone rings. He excuses himself to answer. Kala meets Wolfgang’s eyes and smiles in apology. His expression is unreadable.

Rajan returns. “I’m so sorry, Kala. We’ll have to cut this evening short.” He looks at his companions. “There’s been an emergency at the office.”

“So s-sorry to hear thattt _Rajan_ ,” Felix slurs.

Rajan glares distastefully.

Wolfgang says nothing, but doesn’t bother hiding his smirk.

Kala stifles a laugh. “I’m sorry to hear that, Rajan. I do hope it’s nothing too complicated.”

Rajan smiles. “No, nothing too taxing. Ajay just gave me some number we should run through. I’ll walk you to your room.”   

Kala tilts her head. “I am sure I can find my way.”

Rajan stills. “You sure you’ll be safe?”  

Wolfgang looks at Rajan and raises a challenging eyebrow, “I can make sure she gets back safe.”

Rajan clears his throat, trying to stay courteous. “Yes. Of course. Good night, then.”

Kala looks between the men. “Good night, Rajan.”

As soon as Rajan leaves, Wolfgang turns to Kala, holding out his hand. “Want to get out of here?”

Kala hesitates for a moment before taking his hand. Dinner had been an awkward ordeal, and she is dying to get away from the stuffy restaurant. Wolfgang radiates warmth. A wickedness flickers in his blue eyes, one that she craves.

They double back a minute later put Felix - who they had nearly abandoned at the table - into a taxi before they race to Wolfgang’s car. Kala laughs, practically running to keep up with his long strides down the sidewalk.

“Where are we going?”

Wolfgang unlocks the car and holds the door open for her to climb in, before entering from the driver’s side. “Do you dance?”

She laughs. “You want to _dance_?”

“There’s a DJ I know, Riley Blue. She’s putting on a show at my favorite club. I heard her spin in Amsterdam once.”

Kala thinks about her favorite dance sequences in Bollywood films, this would be nothing like that, but she loves all music. So before she can second guess herself, she nods. Wolfgang starts the car.

  


Wolfgang drives out of the fashionable end of Berlin into _his_ Berlin. Kala gazes out the window and takes in the change of scenery.

Ever since they’d arranged to meet up, Wolfgang had imagined a thousand versions of his dinner with Kala, none of which is close to how it actually went. Rajan attempting to make him look bad in front of Kala. It made him strangely possessive, a feeling he’s far from accustomed to

Wolfgang couldn’t care less what Rajan thought of him, but he doesn’t like that Rajan is trying to manipulate how she thinks. And that is _before_ Wolfgang shared the more violent and dysfunctional aspects of his life. The last thing he wants is to lose her before he even has her.

Instead, he had spent the dinner scheming. When Rajan had to leave, he saw his opportunity. He had to get her out of that ridiculous trumped-up hotel, into the more exciting part of this city.

“Where are we?” She turns from the window, the glow of the dashboard lights casting shadows on her face.

“Friedrichshain.” Wolfgang pulls left into a parking lot, and she can make out the sound of music, the bass muted but audible. “Used to be East Berlin.”

He stops the car and turns back to look at her.

Kala peers out the window, her voice betraying her hesitation. “Is this it?”

Wolfgang smiles, tossing his coat on the back seat.

“Come on.” He exits the car and opens the door for her, leading her in, delighting in holding her hand again. Oddly familiar with it.

The club is packed, but Wolfgang knows the bouncer, so they skip the line. Being a slightly infamous mobster does have its perks. Kala clutches his hand with both of hers, afraid to be lost in the crowd. Wolfgang guides them through the crowd and up to the bar.

“What do you want to drink?” Wolfgang leans in so she can hear, his breath warming her exposed neck.

Kala’s eyes are luminous under the stage lights. “I don’t know. What are you having?”

“Vodka. Have you ever had vodka?”

She shakes her head.

“Want to?” he asks, mischief in his voice.

“You think I’ll like it?”

He shrugs, gesturing for the bartender to bring them three shots -- one for her, two for him.

The barman slams down the shots like a challenge. Kala looks at Wolfgang for guidance. “What do I do?”

“Pick it up, say cheers, toss it back before you realize that you don’t like it.” His eyes flash. “Ready?”

She nods and picks up her shot.

“ _Prost._ ”

Kala takes it like a champ, then dissolves into a coughing mess. Wolfgang chuckles, downing his second shot while she recovers.

Kala looks incredulous. “I cannot believe you drink this for fun!”

“No one drinks vodka for fun,” Wolfgang says, leading her away from the bar and back to the sea of people.

Riley Blue has a way of getting people to leave behind their inhibitions. There’s a strong sense of presence in her music. The beats of the EDM filling Wolfgang’s ears is just short of overwhelming -- it makes him feel alive. Wolfgang loves dancing. But with Kala? It will be nothing like before.

“What do I do?” Kala yells over the screaming crowd, as Riley Blue makes her entrance.

Wolfgang ducks down to speak into her ear. “Whatever feels right.”

The speakers burst into life seconds later, an expertly remixed rendition of “What’s Going On”. Wolfgang meets Kala and her eyes are bright from the vodka.

Wolfgang dances close, their bodies brushing. He gives Kala enough space to pull away, but she doesn’t. He can feel when she trembles. When she leans against his chest, Wolfgang feels his breathing getting shallower.

And Wolfgang knows, dancing with anyone else will never feel the same.

 

By the third song, Kala is dancing with abandon. Her eyes widen when her hand brushes against Wolfgang’s skin, surprised at the heat emanating from his hand. The contact sends a shiver through her spine. The bass thumps along the quickening beats of her heart. She feels her soul is rippling through time, drifting through space without pausing. Like a soft voice uttering an unending prayer.

Wolfgang’s magnetic pull is the only thing keeping Kala from floating away. He’s a good dancer, and seems to be having as much fun as she is. She finds herself physically drawn to Wolfgang, more with every song, until their bodies are fusing to one another. The soundtrack continues on, but they barely notice where one song ends and the other begins, their minds lost in time.

Kala only realizes how late it is when Riley Blue leaves the stage with a deceptively kind looking bodyguard with a cartoon bear on his t shirt. Her muscles are sore from all the dancing, and she’s finding it harder to stay standing as she’s tugged here and there by the ebb and flow of the crowd. Wolfgang holds her steady, protecting her from the surge of bodies moving about, of people coupling off, bumming cigarettes, finishing drinks.

He speaks softly, his voice barely detectable in the sudden quiet. “Ready to leave?”

Kala nods. Wolfgang wraps his arm around her shoulder, allowing her to lean into his side as they walk outside. The air is frigid against Kala’s exposed back, and she shivers. Wolfgang opens the car door and offers her his leather jacket with a quirk of his eyebrow. She takes it gratefully and slides into the seat.

The jacket is soft, made of a well loved leather that smells faintly of cigarettes and something specifically Wolfgang. The car stops and moves, dictated by the traffic lights. The motion lulls her to sleep as Wolfgang drives her back to her hotel.

  


Wolfgang shifts gears,  desperate for a smoke, but he’s afraid the smell would wake Kala. He slows down the car to savor the moment just a bit longer. The car is still like a moment trapped in time, offering a sense of peace Wolfgang did not know he craved.

Dancing with Kala had been… _Sexy,_ is the only word for it. He found himself turned on by the feeling of her luscious curves against his skin, their bodies colliding as they moved along to the beat.

Wolfgang looks at her as she sighs and shifts in her sleep. His jacket slung over her torso, sliding down the side. Her hair had fallen loose from her bun, the curls falling in her face. The sight of her makes his heart clench.

Too soon, he pulls up to her hotel. He walks to her side of the car, and opens the door. He scoops her up, cradling her against his chest, her head tucked under his chin.

Kala stir on the walk towards the elevators, before waking up, confused as she looks around.

“We’re back,” his voice low. “What room are you in?”

“917,” she mumbles.

He shifts her body in his arms and hits the button for the ninth floor.

Kala’s voice is soft, slightly slurred. “Thank you.” He looks at her. “I had a lovely time, Wolfgang.”

Wolfgang nods. “Me too.”

Kala pulls her head away from his shoulder. “You can put me down now.”

Reluctantly, he does, settling her on her precarious heels.

The elevator door opens, and Wolfgang follows her down the hallway. All his confidence disappearing as his pulse races. He doesn’t want to assume he’s welcome in her room. But he’s not ready to say goodbye.

Kala stops abruptly in front of her door, and Wolfgang nearly plows into her. She tilts up her chin so their faces are a mere inch away, all bright eyes and soft lips.

Wolfgang can’t help leaning in, keeping his eyes open. His hands come to rest at her hips.

“Wolfgang?” she whispers before their lips meet.

The kiss feels like fireworks, electricity crackling in his veins. Wolfgang had kissed many people in the twenty eight years he’s been alive, but this is the first time his breath had ever been taken away. The feeling reminds him of that awful song from the 80s his mom had loved. He cannot help devouring her mouth, his lips moulding to hers.

Kala yanks herself forward,  fingers crinkle his shirt in an effort to be closer. Wolfgang slides his right arm around Kala’s waist. His left hand comes up to caress her cheek, her neck, before sinking into her curls.

They stand there kissing for what feels like eternity, enjoying each other’s presence. Their bodies pressing together, sinking deeper into the pleasure of the moment.

“Kala?” a voice calls, sounding distant.  “Kala!” it calls again, sharply this time.

Their mouths part, and Wolfgang notices Kala’s lips look delightfully swollen from his kiss. Looking around, he finds a gawking Rajan standing across the hall in silk pajamas.

Kala releases her hand from Wolfgang’s shirt. “Rajan!” she responds, blushing so hard Wolfgang can feel the heat arising from her cheeks.

“Are you alright, Kala?” Rajan asks, sizing up Wolfgang.

Wolfgang wants to laugh. Rajan has no fucking idea what he’s capable of. Refusing to let go, Wolfgang leaves his arm around Kala’s waist. That is the best kiss he’d had in years, and he is not ready to give it up.

“She’s fine. Go back to bed.”

Rajan looks shocked by Wolfgang’s response. Turning to Kala, he asks, “Are you alright?”

After a pause, Kala finds her voice. “Yes.” Wolfgang feels her breath steady. “Yes, I am fine. Good night.”

Rajan says nothing else, but shoots a hostile glare at Wolfgang before he disappears back into his room.

Wolfgang immediately turns back and leans in to kiss Kala again, but she stops him, pushing a hand against his chest. “Wolfgang.” She looks at him. “I think we should say good night.”

Oh.

“Good night, but not goodbye,” she adds.

Wolfgang tries to read her expression, unsure what he’s seeking. He wishes he knows what she’s thinking. He nods. “When can I see you again?”

Kala shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

“When you do. Let me know.”

Kala looks up, tears pricking her eyes. They lean in close again, foreheads touching. Wolfgang breathes in the smell of marigolds.

“See you soon, Kala,” he whispers. Then he kisses her again. No less intense for how short it is, and leaves without looking back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Readers!  
> Thanks so much for your kudos and comments - I absolutely adore ALL of them.  
> As always thanks to Nightjar_Patronus for being my beta and just in general. And if you aren't reading her AMAZING fic Veracity then you should seriously start!


	4. Rome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala and Wolfgang go on a well deserved holiday in Rome. 
> 
> All I have, all I need, he's the air I would kill to breathe  
> Holds my love in his hands, still I'm searching for something  
> Out of breath, I am left hoping someday I'll breathe again  
> “Breathing” - Sara Bareilles

Kala loves to fly, especially red-eye flights. It’s strangely soothing for her: the pools of lights from phones and screens of those who sit up all night, the odd sound or bout of turbulence...

Kala settles deeper in her seat, pulling up her blanket. She tries to focus on the Spanish action movie she’d selected on the screen, a Lito Rodríguez movie, instead of mulling over the thousand possible scenarios that could play out in Rome.

Kala hadn’t seen Wolfgang since their night in Berlin. Despite how hectic her life’s been, they talked everyday. Or email. Or text. Anything, really, to bring them closer.

Wolfgang had started to share stories from his past: things he remembered about his mother, like her love of 80s pop music, or how much she loved to swim; how he met Felix in detention for fighting; the frustration his teachers had with his underperformance in school. Kala can tell there’s more: hints of something sad, something dangerous. She wants him to know he can share anything, but isn’t sure how to tell him that over the phone.

Kala settles in to a more comfortable position on her seat and reflects on her own life. She’d told her parents she’s travelling for work, not to visit with her hot, _secret_ German. Her parents are accepting, but a boyfriend from halfway around the world?

She also has a decision to make about work. She just received a job offer from the World Health Organization. While Kala had worked hard for the position she had in Rasal Pharmaceuticals, she’s becoming increasingly frustrated by the way they prioritize profit over care. All she seems to be doing at her job is lecture about the influence of her company’s products around the world to people who don’t care. She’d worked hard for years for a dream job where she can help people not to have a job that is simply focused on money.

The job with the WHO  means more travelling, something she doesn’t mind, but it also means doing some actual good in the world. Having the ability to effect real, meaningful change. She hasn’t told Wolfgang about the offer.

Kala tries to shake off her worries as she looks out the window glancing at the cities below her, anticipating the last leg of the flight that will bring her to Rome.

To Wolfgang.

 

Wolfgang nurses his third vodka on ice somewhere over France. After an argument with his uncle, he’d nearly missed his flight. His uncle had ordered him to to run an errand for Fuchs while on holiday with Kala. To say he’s pissed off is an understatement.

Leaning back against the stiff airplane seat, he thinks of Kala. He’s finally going to see her. After three months of lighthearted flirting through the phone, of falling asleep to the sound of her voice, he’s going to _see_ her. He’ll be able to run his fingers through her thick curls and inhale the intoxicating scent of her skin.

Wolfgang’s never been good with words, which had never before been a problem before. Without touching Kala, he isn’t sure he can explain how he feels about her.

Sighing, he finishes his vodka and asks for another from a passing flight attendant.

There are many things he still needs to share with her. His past is not a happy story. Reluctantly, he admits that it’s almost comforting to know that someone would miss him if he suddenly vanished, someone other than Felix.

He also knows there are plenty of things Kala isn’t telling. She hadn’t mentioned telling her family about him, about the reason she’s flying off to Rome. Wolfgang is well aware he is no parent’s idea of a good match for their daughter, especially if the daughter’s a sweet, sheltered Indian girl. But he also knows that he can’t stay away. He can’t go months without seeing her. Touching her. Being next to her.

Attempting to find a comfortable position he takes another gulp of vodka, the aggressive sting grounding him. Wolfgang tries to steady his breathing, resisting the urge to count down the minutes until he sees Kala.

 

“ _Benvenuto in Roma!_ ” the flight attendants nod in farewell as Kala walks off the flight, a nervous flutter in her belly.

The general mayhem of the airport is overwhelming. Kala struggles to find her way to the taxi stand. After twenty minutes of finding her way through the maze of chaos, she sees him standing by the door watching her.

Kala runs over, ignoring the looks of people around her, and throws her arms around him. Wolfgang’s lips touch hers as soon as they make contact. Her hands reach around his neck and pull him closer.

When they finally break apart, they hear applause. Kala blushes and Wolfgang smirks. They hold hands and haul their luggage towards the taxi stand.

 

“This room is huge!” Kala says, stunned.

She laughs and starts to explore. Wolfgang watches her with a smile. He hadn’t wanted to assume, but when he made the booking he only asked for one bed. There’s a couch he can take. Hell, he’ll sleep on the floor if she wants.

Kala grabs his shoulders and swings herself around. Wolfgang’s hands come up to hold her waist. “This is beautiful. Thank you.”

Wolfgang nods, leaning in to kiss her again, their kiss in the airport still fresh in his mind. He starts off slow, tempting her to give in to him. The way she feels in his arms makes him want to stay in this moment forever.

Kala reaches to hold his face in her hands and presses her lush curves against him. Wolfgang raises her higher until only her toes are left on the ground. Kala makes small gasp of surprise. Wolfgang feels a rush of heat down to his cock.

Wolfgang feels weak at the knees, thinking of how long he had dreamt of her. Of this. It felt like he’d been waiting for years. When he finally pulls back, he’s lost all sense of time -- they could have been  kissing for five minutes, or an hour, or more.

Wolfgang holds her like she is his only anchor to reality. Breathing hard, he watches as she opens her eyes and sets her hands to his shirt buttons. Her fingers undo three before he stops her.

“Are you sure?” He searches for answers in her eyes. _Please, please, be sure._ Wolfgang has never wanted anything the way he wants her. 

Kala’s eyes are heavy lidded, fogged with the pleasure she is already feeling. Her voice is steady as she answers _yes_ , a benediction.

Wolfgang doesn’t hesitate. Lifting Kala off the floor, he carries her to the desk, setting her down. He presses in the vee of her legs, pushing her skirt out of the way before he grabs her knees and hitches them over his hips, kissing her witless, drunk off the erotic bliss of being close to her. Wolfgang kicks off his shoes to be closer to her level.

Kala meets him kiss for kiss as he starts to unbutton her demure white blouse. Kala sends her hands exploring his chest as he shrugs off his shirt.

Kala reaches her hands for his button fly. Wolfgang falls on her neck and chest, trailing open mouth kisses and nips. Delighting in the way Kala presses against his mouth uttering incoherent words of encouragement.

He lifts her and carries her to the bed, feeling the driving urge to be as close to her as he could bear. He kicks off the last of his clothes, never letting go of her.

He kisses his way down her abdomen and removes her skirt, panties, and shoes, throwing them in a pile at the end of the bed.  

“Wolfgang?” Kala’s voice freezes him as he kisses the inside of her right thigh. He looks at her, breathing ragged. “You know. Um,” Her voice catches as she blushes. “I haven’t-” her hands gesture vaguely to the room.

Wolfgang finds his voice, “ _Kala, es ist mir egal_. I just want you.”

Kala’s eyes fill with tears. Wolfgang leans on his elbows to nuzzle them away, a pressure building in his chest. “The moment we met I knew that I wanted you.” Kala nods without opening her eyes. Wolfgang caresses her cheek until she looks at him. “I have wanted you ever since.”

Kala brushes her lips against his.

“I will be right back.” Wolfgang reaches in the side of his suitcase and grabs a condom.

Kala lets out a choked laugh, “You planned ahead?”

Wolfgang rolls the condom on, “It is always your choice, but I’ve been waiting to be inside you since London.”

Kala nods, and before she can finish the motion, Wolfgang pounces.

“ _Du bist die schönste Frau der Welt. Ich bin so glücklich._ ”* He kisses her hard, feeling her ease beneath him.

Wolfgang feels harder than any other time in his life. Desperate to be in her, he reaches down and finds her clit, thumbing it until she pulls away from his kisses, moaning and slick with pleasure.

Wolfgang lifts his weight off her and positions himself carefully, glancing at her face once more. Kala meets his eyes and grabs his face. He looks at her and feels the world shrink to just the two of them. He’s never felt this intimacy. Slowly, he enters her, feeling her catch her breath, moaning and nearly going blind with the feeling of her tightening around him.

Kala clutches him to her as he slowly moves in and out of her, increasing pressure and speed. She comes, eyes closing against the sensation. Wolfgang pounds hard and faster until stars explode behind his eyes and he collapses on top of her.

Slowly, Wolfgang comes back to his body, sated and boneless. Wolfgang scoops up a limp Kala and places her on one side of the bed, pulls the duvet over her. He cleans himself up before settling next to her on the mattress, curling around her, protective despite his calm.

Kala snuggles deeper into his chest. His last thought before falling asleep is _I will never be able to let her go._

 

 

After their lovemaking, Kala and Wolfgang finally see the city. Kala falls in love with Rome. It’s full of light and color and history. And the city, in a strange way, reminds her of home. They spend their days exploring museums, ruins and various cafes.

Kala learns that Wolfgang is an avid food lover, though he, in his own words, is only “a passable cook”. Wolfgang learns about her faith. He watches her pray at the temple every morning, and often times, they find themselves engaged in intense debates on science versus faith and the existence of Gods.

They learn what it feels like be around each other. Kala finds delight in learning the tiny details of Wolfgang’s life: The fact that he takes his coffee black, and occasionally smokes, and takes blazing hot showers in the morning. She also finds, to her horror, that he sleeps naked. (Kala gives him the nickname “naked pervert demon,” which he takes as a compliment.)

At night, they continue their explorations of each other’s bodies, relishing in the unrestrained joy and pull of the other. Kala admires Wolfgang’s vast knowledge of all sexual positions and tricks, and expands her own horizons in the field with a passion she did not know she had.

 

On their third night, Kala wakes up alone. She calls his name, but hears no answer. The sheets are cold from where he’d left the bed earlier. Her phone says it is just after 2 am, and she has no idea where he’d gone.

Kala knows she won’t be able to sleep until he’s back, so she gets up and tidies the room. Afterwards, she makes a cup of tea and waits. It is nearly 4 am when Wolfgang slips back in the room.

“Where were you?”

Wolfgang starts when he hears her voice in the dimly lit room.

He scratches the back of his head . “I had to run an errand. I’m sorry I scared you.”

He walks up and kneels in front of her. Without thinking, Kala cradles his face and looks into his eyes. Wolfgang kisses her gently. She tastes the cigarette on his tongue.

“You don’t have to keep secrets from me.”

Wolfgang closes his eyes and leans forward until their foreheads are touching. Kala stands and leads him to bed. She makes love to him until he is boneless and shuddering beneath her. Kala knows they need to talk, but right now the only thing she can do is hold him a little closer.

  


On their last night in Rome, Kala feels the impending cloud of their separation looming over. She feels a deep hollow open up in her chest and wonders how she will make due with brief phone conversations between timezones. Their short flurries of text messages. Kala feels a deep hollow open in her chest.

“Kala? Kaaala?” Wolfgang nudges her arm. She blinks. “I lost you there.”

They’re sitting side by side near the Spanish Steps enjoying an extravagant last meal. (Kala had worried about overspending, but Wolfgang insisted it is fine.)

Tears prick at Kala’s eyes. She looks at him. He is so beautiful it almost hurts. “Sorry. Just thinking,” she says, choking down a surge of emotion.

“About leaving?” Wolfgang pulls her chair closer and slides his hand behind her neck. He pours her more white wine and hands it back. “Why are you upset?”

Kala sips at her wine. She knows she has to tell him everything she’s been avoiding for the past few days: Her parents. Her job offer. Their future. “We should talk.”

“About what?” he sits up straighter.

Brown eyes gaze into electric blue. “About us?” She puts down her wine, “What we are doing, how can we keep this up? I can’t keep pretending. Pretending isn’t a life.”

Wolfgang adjusts the collar of his black oxford shirt. When he looks at her again, she can sense his hesitation. “What about us? We are together.”

Kala breathes deeply, knowing he is not a man who’s had a lot of committed relationships in his past. “But what about my family? This is not how good Indian girls behave. And are we just going to wait months before seeing each other again?” Kala shuffles away. “I wish I know the right thing to do -”

Wolfgang squeezes her hand. “The right thing? I don’t give a shit about what’s right. I care about you.”

Kala feels a burst of panic surging in her chest. “I got a job offer. An amazing one. For the World Health Organization.”

Wolfgang nods, not letting go of her hand. “Do you want to take it?”

Kala looks away. “I think so. But it would mean more travelling. ”

“You like to travel. I can travel with you.” Wolfgang pulls her chin up so he can look her in the eye. “I want to be with you. I don’t care where. I don’t care how. I want _you_.”

Kala’s eyes fill with tears. She nods and rests her head on his shoulder. Wolfgang rubs her back, whispering in comforting sweet nothings and pressing kisses to her hair.  “Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together.”

“Well, isn’t this sweet?” A cold voice says in German behind them.

Wolfgang turns, clenching his jaw. “Lila.”

 

 

Wolfgang stands keeping hold of Kala’s hand. “What do you want?”

Lila twirls her sunglasses with nimble fingers, “Sebastian says you have something to give me?” She peeks around Wolfgang’s shoulder, lips curling into a reptilian smile. “It’s not her, I assume?”

Wolfgang shifts in his seat, ready to grab Kala by the hand and move away. “I will meet with you later.”

Kala’s fingers are trembling in his grip. He rubs his thumb along her knuckles.

Lila quirks an eyebrow. “Fine. I’ll meet you at the Trevi at 1.”

She circles around the table like a cat playing with its prey. “Is she the reason we stopped fucking?” Kala winces at her language. “I would have been more than willing to share.”

Lila reaches out to Wolfgang, and he jerks back.

She laughs cruelly. “Suit yourself. Trevi. 1.” She saunters away.

Wolfgang turns back to Kala. She is visibly shaken. It reminds him of the first time they met, at the bar in London. “Are you alright?”

She meets his eyes. “I think so.”

“She means nothing to me. You know that, right?”

Kala tilts her head but doesn’t respond.

“She’s just a girl I fucked around with. We’re… We worked together..”

Kala looks at him, frowning. Wolfgang knows it’s the first time he has mentioned his less salubrious work. As far as she knows, he works with Felix as a locksmith in Berlin. But Kala is smart, and she surely knows a locksmith can’t afford four star hotels or spur-of-the-moment holidays in Rome. What she doesn’t know that he is a reluctant mobbed up prince with a penchant for safes.

Kala doesn’t know -- doesn’t _need to_ know -- that he can pull a trigger on a man without a second thought.

Her voice is steady when she speaks. “What do you have to give her?”

Wolfgang feels the earth shifting beneath his feet. His worst fears have come true. “I have to deliver something for my uncle. Lila is my contact.”

“Does it have to do with the other night?”

“I had to run an errand.”

Kala’s voice cracks, “You came on our holiday so you could do a _job_?”

“No!” Wolfgang says immediately. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “No. I came here for you. But I had to do one last job. One last favor.”

Kala looks stunned. “One _last_ favor?” She turns away to grab her purse, tossing a few bills on the table.  

Wolfgang swears under his breath. “Kala, _please_. Let me explain. Kala -” he follows her to the street and catches her arm.

“Don’t you touch me!” Kala wrenches her arm away, tears streaking down her face. “I trusted you!” Kala stops and glares. “I don’t even know you.”

Wolfgang feels her pain and anger surging towards him. “There are things I haven’t told you. But please let me explain.” Wolfgang takes her silence as agreement. “My family’s full of criminals. _Monsters_. It started behind the Wall and it only got worse.” He takes a deep breath, “I stay out of it as much as I can, but I’m good at what I do. As much as I hate them, I have needed the money. I did what I had to.”

Kala blinks, the shock from the truth stopping her cold. “I don’t know you. At all.” Without another word she hails a taxi. Their eyes lock again as she gets in, her tears silently falling. She shakes her head and looks away.

Wolfgang watches the tail lights disappear, frozen by fear for the first time in his life. Then he starts running. Harder than ever before. So hard he feels his chest might explode. He races the taxi through the streets, ignoring the honks of protest from the drivers as he dodges cars. Crashing through the silent lobby of the hotel and taking the stairs three at a time, bursting through their door.

“Kala!” He pants, oxygen stabbing him sharply with each breath. “Kala-” He stops short. The room is in tatters. Drawers left open, closet doors thrown wide. He stares. She’s gone.

She’s gone. _Gone_. Wolfgang wanders through the room, looking for anything, any sign of hope. Her sunny yellow scarf lays forgotten on the floor.

Wolfgang picks it up and sinks to the floor. Alone.  

 

 

Kala’s mind remains blank until she is settled on her flight out of Rome. Only then does the realization hit -- she had grown to care for someone she barely knew.

Somewhere over the Mediterranean, the tears start to fall, the floodgates opening to the full impact of her loss. She sobs into her shawl and heaves, her lungs desperate for air, the overwhelming grief drowning her.

Kala finally stops crying when she reaches her favorite temple back home and kneels at the foot of Ganesha. She prays to her God for peace. For a respite from the pain.

 

* You are the most beautiful woman in the world. I'm so happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thanks to Nightjar_Patronus for betaing and a special shoutout to PreRaphaelites for their excellent help on my first ever smut. I hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> The next chapter is fighting me a bit... we will see when it gets posted. Only a few chapters to go. Thanks for all the lovely comments and kudos. I absolutely adore that people are enjoying my story!


	5. Montreal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wolfgang travels to Montreal with Felix and finds someone he wasn't even looking for. 
> 
> Nothing is as it has been  
> And I miss your face like Hell  
> And I guess it's just as well  
> But I miss your face like Hell  
> “Rivers and Roads” - The Head and the Heart

Wolfgang follows Felix up the moving walkway in the Montréal-Pierre Elliot Trudeau Airport. His eyelids feel like they’re coated in sandpaper, and his head throbs in time with his pulse. Staying up drinking all night on the flight over may not have been the best plan. Felix, no worse for wear despite doing the same thing, rambles away in front of him, too busy gushing about Dani and her role in the play that is opening tonight to notice Wolfgang wincing with every step.

In the last year, Wolfgang’s world had become small, violent. Without Kala, his life had little purpose. He continued doing jobs for Sergei, and hating himself and everyone else in the Bogdanow family more with each passing day. He embraced a never ending cycle of drunken nights, painful mornings, one night stands and bar brawls. 

Felix, on the other hand, had settled. Ridiculous wardrobe and dramatic pronouncements aside, Felix had become steadier in his daily life. He rarely partied until he was piss drunk anymore. Never landed in bed with a random woman. All because Dani Velásquez had come to Berlin with her touring theater company. A chance encounter in bar, Felix’s terrible pick up lines actually working and a whirlwind romance has turned into a love story for the ages - at least according to Felix.

These days, taking care of Wolfgang is Felix’s only concern.

Wolfgang struggles to keep his airline breakfast down in the taxi. He realizes this is the closest he’d been to sober in a year. After Kala had left him in Rome, he had tried to reach her. Phone calls at odd hours of the day. Long, rambling, mostly inebriated voicemails. Text messages from different phones. Emails from multiple accounts. She never answered. 

After six months, he’d given up. It’s better that way. Waiting would’ve slowly destroyed what is left of him.

“Wolfie? Wolfie!” Felix shakes his shoulder. “You alive?” Wolfgang nods vaguely, glad he’s sitting down. “We’re here.”

The taxi had stopped outside a trendy hotel. Felix handles check-in as Wolfgang alternates between glaring at everyone and trying not to vomit on the reception desk. Felix shoots him concerned looks, his worry tinged with pity. Wolfgang ignores him. 

The room is clean and comfortable but nothing special. Wolfgang drops his bag and heads straight for the shower. After standing under the searing water for thirty minutes, he feels almost normal. Hollow and hungover, but normal. 

Felix hands him coffee when he gets out and lets him drink in silence for an unprecedented twenty minutes. 

“Wolfgang.” Felix takes a deep breath. He seems almost nervous. He’s always twitchy, but this is like he’s about to give Wolfgang some bad news. “Wolfgang. I want you to be the first to know.” Felix pauses, spinning his coffee cup around and around in his hands. 

Wolfgang looks at him like he has three heads.  _ Since when do they have a hard time telling each other things?  _

“I’m going to ask Dani to marry me. Tonight. After her show.” 

Wolfgang has never been particularly loquacious, but now he’s actually speechless. Felix? Married? To Daniela  Velásquez ? 

Felix is watching him, trying to gauge his response. 

Wolfgang cracks a smile “ _ Gratulation Bruder. _ ”

Felix’s face breaks into an enormous grin. He wrestles Wolfgang into a hug. “I’m going to propose,” Felix repeats like he can’t believe it himself. Upon hearing that, Wolfgang feels his smile slip. He claps Felix on the back, ignoring the sick feeling in his gut that has nothing to do with his hangover. 

 

 

Kala stands at the cocktail reception and smiles at Mr. Onyango’s toast. Capheus has become a good friend of hers at the WHO over the past year. He is the embodiment of optimism and kindness, a more honest man you would never meet. It makes him a powerful force for good in the fight for new innovations that combat HIV and AIDS. 

She stands next to Zakia, Capheus’ journalist girlfriend, in the front row of the audience and tries to relax. 

Since Rome, Kala’s life has been hectic. She’d never stayed anywhere for more than a month: Researching in Paris, Nairobi and Chicago, speaking at conferences in Oslo and London... Her pride in her work is evident, and her activism and brilliance is on display for all to see. There is so much in her life to be grateful for but she sees Zakia watching Capheus with eyes full of pride and love, and wonders if anyone will ever look at her like that. 

Kala’s parents still support and follow her career, but with Daya’s upcoming wedding, they are more than a little preoccupied. Nomi and Amanita had heard her speak in Chicago and brought baby Willow with them, but their own lives were hectic, too. They didn’t get much time to catch up. 

So Kala is alone. A lot. She prayed more often. She took up running. She worked. She traveled and studied in fascinating new places. But after a year of living out of suitcases and hotel suites, Kala wonders if she’ll ever belong anywhere.

The room erupts in applause after Capheus finishes his speech. Kala joins in. She’s happy for her friend -- no one deserves the praise more than he does. 

Eventually, Capheus makes his way over. He kisses Zakia before turning his radiant smile on Kala. 

“I am so glad you are here, my friend!” He says, pulling her into a tight embrace. 

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Kala extricates herself as she turns, embarrassed, to look at Zakia, “And I got to meet the famous Zakia Asalache.”  

“Famous, am I?” Zakia asks, smiling as she leans against Capheus.

“Mr. Onyango, that is quite a speech you just gave.” An Indian man with a crisp London accent walks over. “And Miss Dandekar, your reputation precedes you. I read your most recent study and am most impressed.”

Kala looks at him and tries to place him. “Sorry, sir, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“I’m Dr. Maliki. Please, call me Jonas.” He shook everyone’s hands. “Ms Dandekar, I’m hoping to discuss a possibly permanent job for you. I know you have done great things with the WHO and we - Dr Turing and myself - have a lab outside of Amsterdam that can use your talents. A more hands-on type of job, without so much travelling.”

He gives her a business card, “I’m not sure what to say,” she says. 

“Then think about it. If you want it, the job is yours.” Jonas nods, “I will leave you to your friends.” He leaves without another word.  

Zakia takes Kala’s arm. “Are you alright?” Kala nods. “I thought you’d be used to being headhunted by now.”

Kala smiles. “I’m not sure I will ever get used to it.”

“I’m taking Capheus to the theater to celebrate. We have an extra ticket if you’d like to join us?” Zakia asks when they get outside.

“Oh, no.” Kala shakes her head.“I would hate to intrude!”

“You won’t intrude, Kala! You’re our friend,” says Capheus, his eyes unbearably kind. 

Fifteen minutes later, Kala watches the city go by from the taxi window, wondering if she will ever learn to say no to her friends. 

  
  


 

The play is lovely. It’s a witty story with an underlying theme of serendipity and fate. As the cast takes their bows, Kala claps, feeling tears well in her eyes.

“That was lovely!” Capheus claps along with twice the enthusiasm, “Almost as good as  _ Lionheart _ !” 

Zakia shakes her head, chuckling.

“Would you like to come to the cocktail afterparty?” asks Zakia. “For the meet-and-greet, if you’re not too tired -”

“Oh! I would love to!” Kala exclaims. 

The party is held in the ballroom of a fashionable hotel with a high art deco ceiling. Kala feels terribly underdressed as they sip on glasses of champagne - Capheus loves the bubbles - and observe the actors.

The evening is enjoyable, full of stimulating conversations and delicious food and wine. Kala knows she is lucky to be in such a place, but she feels alone in the crowd. 

_ You’re just tired, Kala. Not lonely. You love being alone _ . 

Kala winds her way back to the bar, hoping a drink will encourage her to enjoy the evening and sidles up next to the gorgeous leading lady herself. 

“Miss  Velásquez!” she exclaims. “I just -  You were wonderful tonight. Truly.” 

Daniela turns around, beaming. “Thank you! And Dani’s just fine.” They shake hands. Dani leans in and whispers in her ear. “It’s actually my first time in the lead. Between the two of us -” she adds, a conspiratorial tone in her voice - “I’m only the understudy!”

Kala laughs. “Maybe it’s meant to be! You were  _ amazing _ .”

“Ahhh -” Dani winks. “I might get promoted. Hopefully. Last I heard, the leading lady has mono!” 

Kala gasps. “No.”

Dani nods emphatically and grabs Kala’s hand. “Here, I want you to meet someone!” 

She leads Kala to a table in the corner, and Kala finds herself face to face with the last person she ever expected to see.

Daniela doesn’t notice Kala’s silence. She turns Felix around by the shoulder, gives him a peck on the cheek, and introduces him as her boyfriend. 

“Kala!” Felix exclaims. 

“Felix!”

Felix shoots his brother a look. 

Wolfgang turns, electric blue eyes boring into hers with some strange combination of horror and wonder.  

“Hello, Wolfgang.” 

 

 

Wolfgang is not into theater, and halfway through the play he’s lost track of what’s happening. He’d managed to stay sober all day and feels oddly content in his clear-headed state. After the play is over, though, all Wolfgang wants to do is fall into bed. 

Felix refuses to let him escape “After-party!” is all he says before he drags Wolfgang across the street into a trendy hotel bar, where the drinks don’t taste good enough for their price. 

Dani, as always, soaks in the attention and flits around. Felix watches her with a mixture of awe and stress. Wolfgang knows he’s trying to figure out how to get her alone and ask big the question. 

Wolfgang doesn’t get involved. He slowly nurses vodka after vodka, letting the conversation wash over him while he offers one word answers. A while later, Dani arrives back at the table dragging a new friend along. The woman is dressed simply in a sleeveless black dress, and black curls tumble down her back. Dani is talking fast, jumping between Spanish and English. Wolfgang doesn’t listen until he hears one word. 

_ Kala _ . 

The word feels like a knife in his chest. His breath catches, and he looks up. She’s there, a painfully beautiful apparition.

“Hello Wolfgang.” 

Her hair is longer than he remembers, a waterfall of dark curls falling to her waist. Her black dress is classy and expensive looking, but so unlike her. There aren’t enough colors. And she looks tired -- he can see she hasn’t been  sleeping well, if the hauntingly dark the circles under her eyes are any indication. 

But none of that matters. He looks at her, and for the first time since Rome, his heart catches in his throat.Wolfgang knows he‘s staring. 

“Kala,” it comes out on a breath, the only word he can form in his mind. 

Dani looks between them. “Do you two know each other?” Her eyes sparkle with curiosity and a hint of mischief. She’s a born matchmaker. Wolfgang groans in internally. 

Kala breaks the silence. “We are old -” she looks at him- “friends.” 

Wolfgang huffs, a dry brittle laugh. 

Friends.  _ I was in love with her. She broke my heart. She broke my heart into so many infinitesimal pieces, I can’t begin to find the pieces and put them back. She’s the reason I’m always drunk. She is the reason that I can’t name a single girl I have slept with in the last year. She is the reason I am empty.  _

_ And it’s all my fault. Mine.  _

He barely stops himself from blurting everything out loud.

“I need a drink.” He stands and starts for the bar.

After a year of erotic nightmares that are haunted by Kala, he can’t process anything with her nearby. He knows she is following him, but doesn’t react.  He orders another double vodka and leans against the bar. Trying not to kiss or yell as Kala stands next to him with eyes full of curiosity and sorrow. 

“What the fuck are you staring at me for?” 

Wolfgang regrets it the minute he says it. He knows he sounds like an ass. He is the reason everything went so badly in Rome, not her. She deserves to be happy. And he doesn’t know how to do happy. But all he can think about is the sunny yellow scarf she’d left in their hotel room in Rome. He’d kept it. It’s in his suitcase four blocks away and he swears it still smells like her. 

“I never thought I’d see you again.” Her voice is full of pain. 

He looks at her then, “Wouldn’t be a first for us.”

He doesn’t believe in fate, but he has run into Kala all over the world. And after a year of mourning, here she is again. 

A small smile plays on her lips, “No, it wouldn’t.” She agrees. “Do you want to get a drink?” Wolfgang looks at the untouched vodka in his hand. 

“With me.” His Kala is braver now. 

Wolfgang is torn. He hasn’t felt happy in a year but he knows if she leaves again, it will hurt twice as much. 

Fuck it. There’s not much left of him to destroy. 

He leaves his vodka unfinished and waves towards the door. 

  
  


 

Kala doesn’t break the silence as they walk. Wolfgang is brooding next to her. Kala knows what she wants to say. 

_ I’m sorry. I miss you.  _

_ You were an idiot. You lied to me. You hurt me. I shouldn’t be seeing you again. I shouldn’t. _

_ How are you? It’s good to see you. You look terrible.  _

_ There hasn’t been anyone else. _

“Do you know where we’re going?” Wolfgang doesn’t stop walking. Doesn’t look at her. 

“No.” Kala doesn’t know how to tell him she wants him to herself. 

“Anywhere you want to go?” he continues. His voice is so familiar, it makes her knees go weak. It sounds like home. He fishes around his coat pockets and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. 

“Those things are bad for you.” Kala can’t help it. She lectures him, as though she can. As though she has that right.

Wolfgang snorts. “There are things much worse for me,” he answers, his voice is bitter. 

A gentle late spring rain starts to fall as they walk in silence. Kala knows she is running out of time. She needs to say it. Any moment now, he’ll leave, and she will lose this chance. 

“My hotel is only a short taxi ride away.”

Wolfgang stops and looks at her, really looks, for the first time since the party, blinking raindrops out of his eyes. He reaches for her face but stops, dropping his hand again. Kala aches for his touch, but hides it behind pursed lips and furrowed brows. She hails a taxi.

They sit without touching, but Kala still feels his gravitational pull. Even after all this time it pulses between them. The silence is deafening as they ride through the quiet rainy city. 

 

 

Wolfgang knows he will regret this. Everything about this is a bad idea. He is alarmingly sober, in a city that he doesn’t know, with Kala.  _ Kala _ . He wants to reach out and touch her. To make sure she isn’t a hallucination. 

Questions race through his mind as he watches the streetlights cast unearthly shadows through the window.  _ What does she want from me? Can I kiss her? Will it feel different? Will it feel the same?  _ The questions circle around and around in his head, leaving him lightheaded. 

The taxi stops. Wolfgang holds the door open for her and feels feel like a stalker. They pass the hotel bar, leaving Wolfgang more off-kilter. He is reminded of all the times he found himself in bed with a random woman and tried not to utter a different name.

Meaningless sex had been his norm since Rome. But being with Kala had never been meaningless. It had been intimate. Erotic. Transcendent. 

As much as he craves her taste and the feel of her skin, going to bed with her may destroy what’s left of his soul. 

Wolfgang knows she is just as lost. Her hands are shaking, clutching tightly to her purse, and he’s aching to hold her steady. 

Once they’re in her comfortable and enormous hotel room, she invites him to sit. “Vodka?” He nods and she starts to tip ice into the glasses. “Why are you here? In Montreal?” 

She’s standing with her back to him. He watches her move, graceful curves shifting under her dress, making her all the more enticing. 

“Felix. He made us come here for Dani.” He takes the drink from her and their fingers brush. He tries to unsee the way she flinches at his touch. 

“I didn’t know Felix is the boyfriend type.” She looks surprised. Wolfgang refuses to fill the silence. “She’s very beautiful.” 

_ Not as beautiful as you.  _ Wolfgang resists knocking back all the vodka at once. 

She takes a deep breath. “How have you been?”

He could be snarky and say  _ alive _ . He could swear. Switch to German and find some obscure word for a complex feeling that doesn’t translate.  _ Luftschloss.  _ The unrealistic dream of having her.  _ Sehnsucht.  _ The intense yearning for her. 

He meets her eyes, and all his bitterness evaporates like smoke. With a sigh, he leans forward and sets down his glass. “I don’t know what you want me to say.” 

“I just want to know how you are -” 

“Fucking miserable.” He cuts her off, hoping to shock her, to break her ever-present sense of calm. “Since you’d left, I have been fucking terrible.” 

Tears fill her eyes. The pity he sees there makes his heart stop cold.  

Kala’s pacing in front of the window now. The backlight gives her silhouette a silvery glow. She looks like an angel come to haunt him. “Wolfgang, I -” He knows she’s trying to steady her breathing, “I didn’t know what to do. ”

“No, Kala. I fucked up.” 

Now that he is talking, it is like some it feels like water bursting through a dam. After a year of brooding, he can face the aching bruise that refuses to fade. 

“I knew I couldn’t have you. Couldn’t keep you. You are beautiful. Lovely. Too perfect for me. I met you because I got lucky, but I wanted to keep my past from you, to protect you from my fucked up life. My fucked up world. And instead I pushed you out completely.” 

Wolfgang doesn’t know when he’d moved. How he came to stand within an arm’s reach. She looks at him, her gaze intense, but doesn’t back away.

“I should have told you you’re the first thought I have every morning, and the last before I fall asleep.” His chest throbs the pressure of his words.

“I should have told you I love you.”  

  
  


 

Kala doesn’t know how this happened. How after a year of trying to forget Wolfgang, she runs into him at the most unexpected place and time. After a year of waking up to tear-soaked pillows, and more of his drunken voicemails that she played over and over just to hear his voice. Her Wolfgang has come to stand in front of her once more. 

“I could have told you that you were the first thought I had in the morning, the last I had before I fell asleep.” 

He sounds the same as he did in London, the first time they met. But his voice is heavier, burdened with the pain she knew she’d inflicted. Kala’s breath catches in her chest. He’s telling her things she never thought she’d hear. 

“I should have told you I love you.”  

Kala doesn’t know who starts the kiss. All that matters is her mouth is on his. Her arms reach around his neck, and he hauls her hips against his, the pressure between of his fingers just short of painful. Kala slides her fingers through his soft hair. The kiss slows until they’re breathing against each other’s lips. 

Kala looks into his eyes: hauntingly blue, shadowed and shuttered. The moment spirals out. They should talk. Decide what this means. Make a plan.

Instead, she says, “Make love to me.”

And he does. 

He makes love to her slowly until her eyes are welling with tears. She remembers how gentle he can be. He moves with an uneasiness he tries to hide, and all she can think about is how much hurt he’d carried. But he touches her with a deliberate care, a softness reserved just for her, and all she wants to do is hold him and tell him everything will be alright.

They fall in an exhausted tangle of sheets and limbs, and for the first time since Rome, Kala falls asleep without crying. 

 

 

Wolfgang doesn’t sleep. He’s afraid to sleep. This feels like some sordid fever dream, a trick his alcohol addled brain is playing on him. Though his imagination can’t taste and feel and smell the way she does. 

Kala curls against him and sighs in her sleep. She looks utterly relaxed and at peace, while all Wolfgang wants to do is jump out of his skin. 

Being inside her had been like coming home, like finding bits of himself and putting them back together. Kala’s gentleness had smoothed over all of his sharp edges that he’d sharpened since seeing her last. 

He watches her and brushes her hair away from her face, hoping to find some hint about what this all means. Is this the last he’ll see of her? Or is this one of the many nights to come? He inches closer so he can feel her warmth, breathing in the soothing scent of marigold and jasmine. 

Hours pass. Wolfgang forms a plan while he watches her sleep. A fucking awful plan, but it’s all he can do. He disentangles their bodies slowly, cherishing the way her curves glinted under the moonlight from the window. She twitches slightly when a gust of cold air touches her skin, and he kisses her before pulling the blanket higher, tucking her in.

As quietly as he can, he gets dressed. He finds paper and a pen, writes a simple note, and placing it on the pillow. Before he leaves, he kisses her forehead, and promises himself this will be the last time he makes her cry. 

 

 

Kala wakes, limbs delightfully sated from Wolfgang’s lovemaking. She rolls over to kiss him but finds his side of the bed empty. The sheets had long since gone cold. 

A crumpled note sits on his pillow, a few words in neat cursive. 

_ I will find you. I promise.  _

_ Wolfgang _

Her tears start to fall. Not sad or happy tears, but confusing, bittersweet. She slips on her silk robe, sits in front of the Ganesha statue on her nightstand, and prays. 

“Bring him back to me, My Lord Ganesha,” her voice trembles. “Remove the obstacles in his way. Help him find me again.  _ Please _ .” 

_ Give us one last chance. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks of course to Nightjar_Patronus. This chapter was harder to write but the end of the whole story is written and should be coming along soon! Thank you to all of you who read and comment - it makes all the work behind this totally worth it.


	6. Mumbai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wolfgang goes to Mumbai.
> 
> I had sworn to myself that I'm content  
> With loneliness  
> Because none of it was ever worth the risk  
> But, you are, the only exception  
> “The Only Exception” - Paramore

Wolfgang had been on the flight for three hours. He couldn’t sit still anymore. He paced up and down the aisles, ignoring the pointed looks from the flight attendants. 

After leaving Kala in bed in Montreal, Wolfgang had returned to Berlin to buy his way out of the Bogdanow family. He’d done one last  _ massive  _ score for Sergei and Steiner -- jewelry, raw diamonds and a good bit of blow from what would be his last S&D safe -- in exchange for his freedom. 

Felix and Dani had jetted off for the coast of Spain earlier this morning. Wolfgang had gone home and packed what was left of his stuff -- countless black clothes, a few stray photos and books and not much else -- and left for Mumbai. 

After another glare from a flight attendant, Wolfgang drops back into his seat. He tries to focus on the pay per view martial arts tournament, a fight of between a deceptively small Korean woman and an enormous arrogant man. Even though she is fantastic and kicking his ass, Wolfgang’s attention drifts.  

Wolfgang pulls out the black velvet box from his pocket. The ring itself is simple: a gold band with a single round diamond. With Kala’s beauty, anything would look plain in comparison.. Felix had asked if he’d stolen it. 

He closes the box with a smirk, leans back in his seat and counts down the minutes until he lands. 

  
  


Kala pours chai in a to-go mug and leaves for temple. It had been her ritual since she’d come back to her parents’, and she knew there were only so many mornings left before she had to leave for Amsterdam. And she still had questions for Ganesha. 

Since Montreal, Kala had heard nothing from Wolfgang. She had taken his note everywhere she went and read it so many times the ink had faded, the letters barely legible between the creases and wrinkles. 

_ I will find you. I promise _ . 

Her faith had taught her patience. Her faith had taught her that things will happen as fate intends. Wolfgang had been the proof. 

Kala roams through the crowd and  wonders where he is. What he’s doing. If he slept alright. If he’s thinking of her. 

She sips her warm chai, craving the bitterness of coffee. 

  
  


_ Fuck. It is hot.  _

Wolfgang chants the mantra as he boosts the bag higher on his shoulder. Since getting off the plane Wolfgang has shed two layers. He resists the urge to take off all his clothes and wonders if there’s a protocol for public nudity in India.  Taking a drag on his cigarette, he tries follow the directions the tour guide had given, the desperation to find Kala gnawing away in his mind.

The sweat soaks through his undershirt, making him cringe. He should have checked into a hotel first, but he knows Kala prays in the early morning. 

Well, he knows where she _used to_ pray. Fuck. He hopes she hasn’t found a different temple. 

For once the universe is on his side. The crowd parts. He sees her. His Kala, walking away from him towards the temple. He follows her slow progress through the chaotic square. She is drinking her chai, and Wolfgang can almost taste the sweetness on his tongue. Her hair is unbound, and his hands flex, itching to play with her curls. 

Wolfgang is within an arm’s reach. She’s still unaware he’s behind her. 

“Kala,” his voice catches. 

She spins around. Her eyes are hazelnut brown as the sunlight hits. “ _ Ich habe Sie gefunden. Ich habe es versprochen.” _

  
  


As though she had conjured him from her thoughts, there he is. 

“I found you. I promised I would.” 

Kala knows he’s speaking German to cover up his nerves. 

He clears his throat and reaches for her hand. “Come with me.” 

She can’t speak. Her voice stuck in her throat, thick with unshed tears and emotions she can’t name. The relief of seeing him making her weak at the knees. She nods and follows. He finds the stairs to the roof of the temple. The city spread out below is breathtaking, but all Kala can see is Wolfgang. Her Wolfgang. In her city. Sitting on the roof of her favorite temple. Holding her hand. 

“How did you find me?” Her voice is steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.  

“I remembered where you said you prayed.” He reaches for her hand, lacing their fingers. “And I remembered the name of your family restaurant, so I looked that up too.” 

Kala laughs. “Are you stalking me?” 

Wolfgang glances over the city and back at her, pinning Kala with his gaze. “I’ve met you so many times. I’ve lost you more than I should have, but some things in life are inevitable.”

“Fate is on our side.” 

“Fuck fate. You are the only thing I have ever wanted, and I’ve fucked that up too.” He stands. “I can’t be away from you anymore. We’ve got so many things to figure out, I know, but all that matters is you.” 

He kneels in front of her, looking painfully awkward as Kala’s eyes prick with tears of happiness. 

“I love you. I can’t be alone anymore.” 

He pulls a small velvet box out of his pocket, and opens it to reveal a golden ring with a perfectly round diamond in the center. It’s a simple ring. It’s perfect.

Kala reaches past the box to touch Wolfgang’s face. “I love you, Wolfgang.” She kisses him tenderly, putting all the unspoken affection into the pressure of her lips. He only breaks off when he has to gasp for air. 

“Is that a yes?” 

Kala smiles, one full of love and tender affection. “Yes, Wolfgang. I will marry you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See Amsterdam for notes. xo


	7. Amsterdam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kala and Wolfgang a few years after Mumbai. 
> 
> Though your feet may take you far from me, I know  
> Wherever is your heart, I call home  
> “Wherever is Your Heart” - Brandi Carlile

“PAPA!” a shriek sounds from the upstairs bedroom. 

Wolfgang comes running up the steps, bursting into the room. 

“ _ Kleine _ ?” He scoops up the little girl, who peeks through her uncontrollable tangle of black curls with intelligent blue eyes. “ _ Was ist es? Bist du in Ordnung?” _

It’s been three years since his beautiful daughter was born, but every time he sees her, his heart still flutters like it did the first time he’d held her in his arms.. 

Mishka wipes enormous tears away and buries her face in Wolfgang’s neck. She babbles in an incomprehensible combination of English, Hindi and German, complaining that Uncle Felix had been cheating at their board game. 

Wolfgang glares at Felix, who looks suitably guilty as he leans back against Daniela’s legs from his spot on the floor. “ _ Mein kleines Wunder _ , should I beat him up? He can’t get away with that.” He rubs her back and carries her towards the kitchen where he was making dinner. 

After the wedding -- a much smaller affair than Kala’s parents wanted, but still larger than Wolfgang would’ve preferred -- they had moved to Amsterdam. And two years after that, they had welcomed their tiny bundle of wonder. 

“How should we greet mama today?”

“WITH HUGS!” she exclaims, chubby toddler limbs flailing for emphasis. 

“Always, my  _ Schätzchen _ , always.” 

Kala pushes open the door, seeking refuge from the blustery November evening. Her cheeks have gone red from the cold air, her curls wild from the harsh wind. 

“MAMA!” Mishka launches into rapid Hindi at the sight her mother and reaches for her. 

 

Kala breathes a sigh of relief when she closes the door behind her, shutting out the cold. It had been a long week, and the frigid weather does not help with her exhaustion one bit. But, as always, she warms up at sight of Wolfgang and Mishka, breaking into a big smile.

“And how are you,  _ meree chhotee pyaaree _ ? Were you good for papa today?” Kala coos. She kneels and snuggles up against her daughter’s squirming little body, inhaling the scent of jasmine shampoo. Wolfgang pulls them both against him. 

It may have taken a long time for her to get her happy ending, but Kala is forever thankful to Ganesha for all her blessings.

“How’s your day,  _ Liebling?”  _ Wolfgang peppers Kala’s forehead with kisses. She giggles at the way his stubbles tickle her skin.. 

Kala follows Wolfgang back to the kitchen.  “Fine. Tiring. I’m glad to be home with you.” Kala settles Mishka on her lap to watch Wolfgang to cook, pinching her baby cheeks. “And you,  _ Maus!”  _

“Mama, I want a story!” Kala settles Mishka on her lap to watch Wolfgang to cook. 

“What story do you want to hear today?” 

“Mama and Papa story!” 

Wolfgang grins at his girls and stirs the pasta. Kala starts, 

“Well,” Kala starts, “once upon a time, your Auntie Nomi and Auntie Neets wanted to go dancing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This AU has been an AWESOME experience. I have learned an absolute ton and can't wait to use it for new stuff in the future. (I think I have identified by next project... hope to have the first bit up soon!) I cannot say thank you enough to Nightjar_Patronus who has taken time out of her busy schedule to beta, to coach, to encourage and to be a genuinely fabulous human being. So thank you thank you thank you! xoxoxox 
> 
> Thanks to all of you awesome readers to sent kudos, comments and general good energy -- it makes a huge difference! xoxoxoxo 
> 
> More soon. Love from VT.


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